Warden's Demise
by SaraTwine
Summary: Duty has kept him going, succeeding where it was needed and providing safety for the people of Ferelden from Darkspawn. Now his calling has come and the whispers of Darkspawn aren't the only thing that haunt his journey to the Deep Roads. (I've decided to turn this into the 'dumping ground' for any one-shots I write. Chapter 3: Sacrifice!
1. Warden's Demise

**A/N****: ****Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins.**

**Warden's Demise**

He couldn't entirely say when it had first started. He had been going about his duty as Commander of the Wardens in Ferelden when they came, no longer was he able to ignore them or escape their clutch during his waking hours. Voices, whispers calling to him were always present.

He knew then that his time had come, his calling.

There were no celebrations to be had. He appointed another to command the Grey Wardens of Ferelden in his stead, gathered what would be needed for his trip to Orzammar and in the dead of night left, without a backwards glance, he left what had been his home for years, and began his journey to the Deep Roads. The last journey he would take on Thedas.

-X-

_Lothering. It was a mess, refuges swarmed its ground. Templars turned them away from the Chantry, what most saw as their salvation._

_Even the Tavern, a place he knew to rarely be quiet; filled with the noise of gossip and laughter. Yet, all he found as he entered was a sombre silence; people sat about their tables whispering among them of rumours spreading like wild fire within Fereldan's borders. _

"_Grey Warden traitors" _

"_Blight" _

"_Fallen King"_

"_Traitors!" He heard that, it was no whisper. Approached by three men, armed and armoured he felt his muscle clench knowing a conflict was waiting to happen. _

"_Grey Warden traitors!" He continued. "He warned of us of you, he did. You killed the King!" The man drew, weapons glinting in the candle-lit tavern and a gasp following the patrons, their attentions now drawn conflict. _

_He knew the conflict about to transpire would be unavoidable, he would have to kill or be killed and he couldn't afford to leave Fereldan without a Grey Warden. Before he was able to speak, to even try and defuse the situation he was beaten. A soft voice. A beautiful voice one he couldn't quite understand but knew. He __**knew **__it was beautiful. One he would come to love, but he couldn't hear it. He watched her lips moved, the face holding them was fuzzy, blurring at the edges. _

_So intent on this figure was he, he didn't notice whatever she had been saying hadn't worked. His attention drawn to the sword rapidly closing the distance that separated them he knew he wouldn't be fast enough, so distracted by the mysterious figure he'd been caught unaware. He raised his arm, praying to the Maker it would be, vowing to allow such an event to never transpire again, he wouldn't fail his duty._

_-X-_

He awoke with a gasp, his arm outstretched and raised to block a blow that wasn't there. He felt the burn of tears in his eyes as he recalled his dream. _Memory_ he corrected himself with a snarl, hands swiping at his eyes furiously. He hated them, despised them not only had he lost her presence in his life, he was losing the memory of her.

No longer could he picture her features, features he knew to be beautiful and captivating. Her voice, one he knew he could listen to without protest for hours, no longer was he able to hear it. He had lost her, so many years ago and felt as if he were losing her all over again.

He had been spared the whispers of Archdemons, the nightmare that was Darkspawn that haunted his mind when he slept, only for it to be traded off with what he found to be a harsher demon, one of his own and the painful realisation that he was truly losing her, he would soon have nothing but a memory of a person he once knew, and loved.

Breathing deeply, he pushed it aside. _Soon._ He told himself; soon he would be free of the demons that chased him.

He left his makeshift camp-site. He was close to Orzammar, close enough that he would be at the Deep Roads within the next few hours; he had no need for it. A passer-by would consider themselves lucky, coming across it.

He would be within the Deep Roads soon. He would fulfil the last of his duties; he would honour his family name. He done what was needed of him by the Wardens, he had claimed the vengeance of his family's slaughtered.

He allowed himself to look as he truly felt. He was no longer the Hero of Ferelden, the Grey Warden who ended the Blight. He was a man, tired and worn from accomplishing what was asked of him, no longer did he hide behide a façade that he was a man of triumph.

He walked head-bowed, shoulders-slumped to the gates of Orzammar, past its many citizens going about their daily lives. Only when he found himself at the entrance to the Deep Roads, the same one he had taken all those years ago to end the Blight that had led to his uprise as The Warden, did he stop. He found himself staring at what was to become his tomb, where he would find his demise.

-X-

_It was his favourite place in Ferelden. It was unnamed. It was a simple scrap of grassland, on the side of the road that led to Denerim. One he hadn't expected to set eyes on again. _

"_With you, I know I am safe." It was voice, the one he knew he adored, but could no longer recall. He could hear the words, but no longer put them to the voice he had loved. He didn't feel the common surge of anger that followed the realization. He was dreaming again, he knew it. Recalling an event he held dear but that lacked detail he so deeply wanted, __**needed.**__ "Sometimes, I succumb and fall asleep, and wake to find you still watchful. And I know you're watching out for me." _

_He felt her lean against his shoulder, he watched, intent on recalling something, anything about her. Her features were unrecognisable; they were blurry at the edges. He could only make out the head of hair, short and barely reaching her shoulders. Its fiery red strands as bright as the fire in front of them. _

"_"You never have to feel afraid with me." He heard himself say. It hurt to hear himself speak those words, in the end they had be a lie, he had done much of that to her, this person he had claimed to love and adore; lie. He had told her she would be safe with him, that he would protect her and he hadn't. _

_He taunted himself; he would often recall memories, dream of them as if he were watching it from a distance, unaware and unable to shape them in any way he'd wish. _

_He would watch, and have himself reminded of his lies, of his failures. Sleep no longer brought with it the promise of rest, or peace. _

_He was pulled from his inner-thinking; back to what he now knew was a memory playing out, it's only purpose to deliver the point that he had failed, that he had not succeeded where he should have. _

_"And I... love you. It's so wonderful to say that to someone again." He felt pain, red hot pain shoot through his entire being as he heard those words, the voice behide it still unrecognisable. He saw blackness at the edge of his vision. Pain, pain it was all he could feel._

_-X-_

Pain. It was all he could feel, it was like his entire body was on fire. He was leant against the wall of a tunnel. Blackness all around him, he could feel them to surrounding him. Darkspawn. He had survived, barely if his body was to anything to go by.

He had encountered Darkspawn, many of them. He had fought, unwilling to go down easily. He would fight, tooth and nail to take as many of them with him. They would pay for the pain they'd cause him to experience.

His left arm lay uselessly against his side. An arrow imbedded in the shoulder. His armour scraped and dug uncomfortable against his skin. He was alive, barely. His blood was pooling at his feet, trickling freely from the many scratches the Darkspawn's blades had landed.

He moved forward, unable to suppress the grunts and growls of pain and frustration. He was weak, but he wasn't beaten, yet. He could take more of them with him; he **would** take more of them with him.

He came to an opening, how wide he wasn't sure. It was still dark; he could barely make out his Sword, outstretched in his right hand in front of him. He felt them; all around him though how close they actually were he wasn't certain.

He saw it then, the Emissary it was clear it wasn't seeking to remind hidden. It's magic lit the cavern. Slowly, from behide it's back Hurlocks and Gunlocks filed into the room.

He watched them, as they let lose guttural glows and snapped their teeth, the sounds echoing off the cavern's walls. They were ready; they wanted to sink their blade into the human's body in front of them.

He prepared himself as they charged, the Emissary letting out an almighty growl that seemed to signal the chaos. He put every ounce of strength left behide him in his swings, his slashing through air and foul flesh alike.

A sharp whistle and a thunk, accompied with the flare of pain alerted to him the fact he'd taken another arrow. His strength was waning, adrenalin alone no longer able to overcome the pain his body was subject too. He felt the jagged blades of the Darkspawn, knicking his armour, slicing into his flesh.

He advanced still. Darkspawn now surrounding him, climbing over their fallen brethren to get to the lone Warden. The Emissary, that was his target. He could see it, only a metre ahead of him. It's head thrown back, letting out a cackle as it took in the events in front of it.

He bared his teeth, his own yell joining that of the Darkspawn's and the sounds of weapons clashing; sinking into flesh. He was so close when he felt the blade sink into his thigh, unable to contain the cry of pain that escaped his lips as he fell, crashing to the floor at the feet of the Emissary, it's cackling still sounding above the noise of his fellow Darkspawn.

He was weak, too weak. Unable to find the strength to push him to his feet, he bared his teeth. The pain excruciating as he felt the blades of the Darkspawn piercing the metal encasing his body, sinking into his flesh.

He was done. Finished. Free.

-X-

"_What is meant by 'someone like me?'" Leliana asked. A twinkle in her eyes, one he'd become use to, she was quite mischievous. It was part of her appeal. He could forget about his trouble, about the looming threat of the Blight, even if only for a while when he spoke to Leliana._

_"You know, a beautiful charming woman like yourself." He replied. Unable to contain the smug smile he felt making itself known as she paused, caught out, if only for a brief moment._

_"And there are no beautiful, charming women in the cloisters, you think? Oh, you would be wrong." She spoke, her accent caressing each word. It was then realised. He heard it. It wasn't as if it were himself speaking the words. "There were many lovely young initiates in the Lothering cloister-all of them chaste and virtuous. Ah, it added to their mystique." She continued. He heard her giggle; it was quiet, and short. It was a noise he'd come to love dearly during their time spent together. "Because then... then they were forbidden, and forbidden fruit is the sweeter, no?" Leliana finished, her attention drawn to him. Her equally fiery eyebrows lifted in question, her attention no longer on the surrounding land as they walked, but on him. _

_He remembered it all. It was so sudden; it all came back in a rush, every memory, and every feature on the face of the woman he had loved. It wasn't only the voice that was once again recognisable to him. He had found his woman, his love. He had done his duty and been rewarded by the Maker. He had his memories back, he hadn't lost her, not completely. _

"_No my love. I am not only a memory." She reached out, clasping the Warden's hand in her own. "The Maker has brought us together again." She pressed herself against his side, her head coming to rest atop his shoulder as they continued their stroll, to where he wasn't sure. _

_This was no memory, at least not yet._

_-X-_

**A/N: ** Hi! I've always loved reading, and after buying the Dragon Age Ultimate edition on a Steam sale my love for Dragon Age was rebooted. After reading a bunch of other's stories, I thought I'd finally give my own a shot. I thought it best I start with some One-shots, so. This is one of many, maybe! I'm looking mostly to work on and improve my writing before maybe moving onto stories with chapters. ^^

Apologise for any spelling/grammar or otherwise baddies in the writing – Still fairly new to this and after a few looksy at some Google Guides. ( : ) I figured I'd just give it a shot. I'd really appreciate any reviews with some tips, or criticism! I tried to keep it as a sorta faceless/nameless Warden with only a few lines hinting to it being a Cousland. Is that preferable, or using my own better? I can't decide!

Twine X


	2. Sneaky Sock

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins.

**Sneaky Sock!**

"Dear Journal... Leliana has shown much affection for me. Even asked me to come to bed with her, but alas, subtlety is lost on me."

Leliana was teasing the Warden about being unable read her signs; she had gone so far as to quite clearly state that she was inviting the Warden to spend the night with her. In her tent. Just the two of them. Leliana had been unable to hold back the giggle at the look of shock that spread across the Warden's face, her eyes widening at the Bard's blunt proposal.

The Warden's mouth worked soundlessly, opening and closing before she'd finally got control of herself. She was about to speak when a loud shrill of a loud pierced the relative quiet of their campsite.

-X-

"Alistair!" Wrynne stomped out of her tent, an object clasped between two fingers, held in an outstretched arm. It was an object that repulsed the mage that much was clear.

Leliana watched as the senior of the two Grey Warden froze. He had been carrying firewood with the intention of depositing it atop the fire slowly losing its brightness in the night. He turned, slowly as he watched the mage approach him, her swift feet closing the distance quickly, her face a mask of fury.

The bard was unable to hold back the laughter. Alistair had swallowed as his back straightened. He was able to charge into lines of Darkspawn, bandits. He was a fierce warrior yet the elderly mage storming towards him with her outstretched displaying… something, she couldn't quite tell what, caused fear to make itself known on his features.

She turned to her soon to be lover, or at least she hoped soon to be, who joined in her laughter. "Is that a sock?" The Warden gasped, her hands moved to rest atop her stomach, wincing as she continued to laugh, unable to contain or stop herself.

"It's a filthy _sock_!" She looked up at that, the voice of Wynne, normally so calm, so collected, almost shrill with disgust, echoing across the camp. The distance she had closed between herself and Alistair gave her seemingly no cause to quieten herself. "How is it that it ended up inside my tent, atop my bedroll of all places?!" Wrynne continued to wave about the offending sock, as if it were needed to make her point clearer. The mage's spare hand rested atop her hip, her gaze rested on Alistair, uncaring of the giggles coming from nearby.

"It likes you!" Alistair replied cheerfully. Leliana had to bite her lip, wishing to shush herself to listen to what she knew was going to be an intriguing conversation. The Warden was leant against her, a hand clasped against her mouth, giggling like a child still.

"Socks are sneaky that way, Wrynne." Alistair's face turned serious "Very, very sneaky" He punctuated each word, lips quirking up into his lopsided grin. "Besides" He paused as he inspected the sock held out by Wrynne. "It's not mine."

"It's got your named stitched into it, Alistair." Wrynne's words were slow, deliberate as if she were speaking to a child. The senior's Grey Warden hand shot out and swiped the sock from the mage's grasp, fingers fiddling with the cotton of it.

"Oh. Ha!" He exclaimed. "Thanks! One of my socks is quite wet." He sat down, fingers moving to pry the boot from his foot.

"You aren-.. It's filthy!" Leliana watched, the elderly's hand mimicking the other, coming to rest on her hip as she scowled down at Alistair who was in the process of pulling the filthy, but dry, sock onto his foot. A soggy, equally dirty sock now resting at his side.

"But dry." Alistair had moved onto replacing his foot within the boot. "We aren't living in a time luxury, Wrynne."

The bard watched, the elderly mage repeating the Warden's previous position. Her mouth opening and closing caught out by the former Templar's attitude seemingly. She exhaled a huff of air. "Do your laundry more often, Alistair." She scowled down at Alistair, who was now leant back against the wood he had been carrying. That man was odd, amusing, but odd Leliana decided. "Maker help you if another of your socks find themselves in my tent!"

"Good night, Alistair." With that Wrynne turned, heading back towards her tent.

"Night Wrynne, sleep well!" Replied happily. He continued to lean back against the future firewood, his arms coming to rest behide his head. How he found that comfortable was beyond her.

"You shouldn't tease her so, Alistair!" Leliana called.

"She is far too serious!" He grinned.

"Are we not combating a Blight?" The Warden replied.

Alistair snorted, his lop-sided grin once again presenting itself. "You're one to talk." He winked. Leliana noted the change. It wasn't long ago when he was a stuttering mess whenever a topic delved into 'intimate' details, now he was jesting about their being together.

If only it were so! She wished they'd been intimate and Alistair's assumptions were correct. If it weren't for that infernal sock they could be within the confides of their tent, giving some truth to Alistair's hints. She watched the Warden's cheek redden at the meaning behide Alistair's words.

"It seems conflict has a way of bring people together, no? As well as your misplacement of socks." Leliana teased. Alistair had the decent to look sheepish, if somewhat guilty.

Leliana clasped the Warden's hand. "Good night Alistair!" She called, pulling along the Warden as she headed towards her tent.

"Remember!" He called. "Others are sleeping!"

"We would be, if it were not for all this infernal yelling!" Morrigan's yell interrupted.

Snickers sounded from the Bard and the two Wardens. "Night Morrigan" Alistair cheerfully called.

"Silence yourself, fool." Came the reply.

Sten came stomping into view, he was the one on watch and unlike everyone else he thought it best that he patrol the surrounding area of their chosen camp site. "Quiet." He spoke, his word harsh and demanding not even pausing as he disappeared out of Leliana's sight again. His word seemed to be obeyed as the camp was once again silent, the soft snores sounding from across the fire signalled Alistair's drifting off.

The bard took this as the blessing she perceived it to be. She finally pulled the Warden within the confines of her own tent, out of prying eyes, the Warden's red cheeks let Leliana know that the woman was still embarrassed. It looked so out of place for the one that led their band of misfits, Leliana took the Warden's hands in her own, a smug smile spreading across her lips.

"Let us talk of that entry in your journal, yes?"

**A/N: ** Hello again o/ I know this probly isn't that exciting, but I wanted to try writing something with a bit more dialog as it's something I'm finding quite difficult to work out at the moment.

I also decided to turn this into a place to plonk all my one-shots, that'll not be linked (If they are, I'll be sure to mention that) they'll mostly be my attempts at writing xD

Hope you enjoyed! Review, please! ^^


	3. Sacrifice

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins****.**

**Sacrifice.**

She had raised her shield, unable to think of anything else, the sickening crunch that followed had caused her to cry out. Falling to the ground she curled the arm against her stomach, the dented shield still attached to her hand. Reaching back she desperately pulled herself backwards along the ground with hopes of putting some distance between herself and the Orge before it chose to finish her, something she had no doubt it'd be capable of doing and would do soon.

"Hanabi!" Alistair's yell reached her ears, above the sound of combat, echoing about the chasm's walls.

She looked to see her fellow Warden fighting his way towards her; she doubted he'd make it in time with the number of Darkspawn between them.

Hanabi watched the Orge approached, desperately dragging herself back when she felt something solid at her back. The chasm's wall, she had fled as far as she could and there was nothing between them to stop it's advance and as she looked about in search of her companions, she saw they were occupied.

Darkspawn had flooded into the spacious room and they'd been separated, each fighting their own battle. Alistair was closing the gap quickly, dispatching Darkspawn quickly, his shield now a weapon as he slammed both it and his blade into Darkspawn blocking his path. He was close, but he wouldn't make it in time.

She felt it's grip about her waist. It's massive hand encasing her midsection as it raised her up, roaring it her face, spittle flying from it's chops. Her own hand clawed at Ogre's desperately though it was useless, it was too strong.

She was about to yell out when she felt the wind soar past her ears, the ground rush to meet her and her breath left her. Pain exploded across her chest, grasping as she tried to draw in air without much success.

A roar pierced the pounding in her ears. Sten, the only one among them rivalling the Ogre's height, was charging towards the beast, Asala's point leading his charge. He met the giant Darkspawn with the sickening slicing of steel through flesh, his blade burying itself to the hilt within the beast's chest.

The Ogre's grip on the Warden dropped, causing her to fall in a heap on the floor, unmoving. Sten's momentum caused it to fall onto it's back, the Qunari's teeth bared in a feral smile as he withdrew the blade, and buried it once again, this time in the skull. The hands that were reaching for him fell lifelessly on the ground.

She could barely breath, it hurt to do so. Her limbs lay lifeless on the ground, refusing to obey her commands to move.

"Vashedan." She heard Sten curse. He had moved to her side upon slaying the Ogre, Asala was held firmly in one hand as he beckoned to the rest of their party with the other. "Wynne. Come." His words were sharp, and harsh.

They weren't words to be disobeyed, that much she was certain. She tried to focus on his words, and him and not give in to the blackness she saw at the edge of her vision, creeping to take her.

"Is she hurt? Is she alive?" Alistair's panicked voice sounded above the rest, limping to the side of his fellow Warden. A nasty cut to his thigh, a steady flow of blood coating his already bloodied armour.

"Yes." Sten's short reply came, he had moved now, standing aside.

Her companions were gathered about her, their voices were mixed together and she couldn't make out any of the words, she felt the darkness creeping in further. The pain was unlike anything she had experienced before. White-hot pain was everywhere, her stomach felt tight, too tight. She wasn't able to draw in breath, not enough, she felt herself slipping, she tried to fight it, but still her vision slipped, the voices' dimming before complete blackness fell and she knew nothing, felt nothing.

-X-

Sten watched them fuss about the fallen Warden, the mage Wynne, yelling orders that weren't being followed, none thought to keep watch so that the Darkspawn wouldn't bring them all down along with the Warden.

He paced, his anger steadily building as he listened to the whines of the Companions.

"Help her."

"Do something, Wynne!"

"Wynne!"

"Enough!" Sten yelled, the word echoed about the walls of the chasm, the group finally falling silent. The end of his patience reached. "Remove yourself and allow the Mage to work." His glare landed on the Bard, Leliana, the woman that never ceased her talking, finally did. "Watch for Darkspawn, now."

They obeyed, Leliana moved from the Warden's side and after relieving the few fallen Darkspawn that had items of use on them, move to stand at one of the corridors that lead into the open chasm they resided in currently.

He turned to the Templar, Intending to demand he move himself too when the boy stiffened, his back going rim-rod straight. Alistair muttered something he wasn't able to hear but before he asked he spoke it again, louder.

"Darkspawn." Alistair's widened eyes look to one of the corridors, before darting back to land on Sten. It seemed even the senior of the Wardens would follow one not of his order. _Weak._ "Too many for us to fight, we must move!"

"We can't move her! If we do she could perish." Wynne stated, her gaze moving from Alistair to Sten, before resting once again on the fallen Warden.

"If we stay, she'll die for sure, along with all of us!" Alistair yelped. He had already moved to the Warden's side, pausing only briefly before he began to collect the lifeless heap that was Hanabi, slinging the reasonable uninjured arm over his shoulder, he yelled for Leliana who was soon at his side, the Bard's arm coming to rest about the Warden's waist, she gave a grimace of her own as the Warden did such.

Sten didn't move, he watched them as they scrambled to the opposite side of the chasm, only turning to search after the Qunari when they made it to the corridor that would take them back towards Orzammar and further away from the Darkspawn threat.

They wouldn't make it. The Warden was dead weight between the two, the Templar's leg caused him to hobble and the mage was on the verge of collapsing. They would all perish beneath the country his Warden called home and they would be left without Wardens.

"Sten! We have to move." Alistair yelled, struggling to turn to face the Qunari with the woman slung between him and Leliana.

"Go." Sten ordered, He turned his back to them then, as he faced the opposite corridor, it was the only way for the Darkspawn to approach.

"Sten?" Leliana questioned her quizzical gaze on the Qunari's back. "You are not coming?"

"No" He shot back.

"Sten!" Alistair shouted. The Templar's throat was raw, hoarse from all the yelling, yet he continued to do so. "We must go. Now! They'll be here soon."

Sten heaved a sigh, turning about to face them once again. "Go." He repeated. "The Blight requires Wardens to be ended. We will not make it, I am willing to buy you time, to save the Basalit-an" He allowed his gaze to rest on the woman between them. "Go now, and save the Warden."

It was deathly silent for several moments, before Wynne's voice broke it. "We must go." And with that came the clink of plate moving. It seemed the mage's word had spurred them into action. Good.

"Thank you, Sten." Leliana's soft voice sounded behide him. Soon the sound of their movement was gone too.

Sten glared ahead at the corridor, waiting. His body was tensed, Asala poised ready to strike the Darkspawn. He would slay many with it, allowing them to take the Warden from his place and grant her the aid required to live.

He did not think his end would come at the hands of the Darkspawn when he was sent to Fereldan to find out as to what this 'Blight' truly was, and if it was in fact taking place.

He would never of thought himself willing to die for a human, one not of his kind. She had surprised him. It had confused him at first that a woman could be allowed into an Order that rumoured to hold some of the finest fighters in Thedas. That a woman was a Soldier was baffling enough.

She had impressed him. She never backed down from his words; she had stood up to him. She had defeated him, when he demanded to be given leadership of their team and yet never held it against him, hadn't sent him away. She was the only one he had met in Fereldan worthy of being called a Basalit-an.

He heard the growls, and guttural noises that alerted him to the Darkspawn. They would soon be upon him. He raised Asala. His soul he had thought lost yet was found by Warden. She had found a single blade in a country torn by war.

She had returned to him his soul and honour. He readied himself, he would provide the time to allow the Warden the chance to live, and end the Blight.

He would save his Kadan.

-X-

Alistair couldn't help but watch her as they travelled. She had told them of an entrance that had opened up, believed to be to the Deep Roads that the Chantry had wanted investigated. It had been the last time she spoke.

Two days it had been since the Incident, the one that resulted in Sten being left behide. It had taken them a few hours to get back to relative safety, and then onto Orzammar, yet he felt the Darkspawn. If they had tried to leave, all of them, the Darkspawn would've caught up and they wouldn't have stood a chance.

He was grateful to the Qunari, he had saved them all. But, he couldn't understand why it was his fellow Warden fell silent and seemed to constantly be lost in thought. He knew she had respect for the Sten. He was a formidable warrior, but he had questioned her choices. He had even challenged her at one point!

Alistair wouldn't soon forget the fear he had felt, watching them duel. He had been so scared, terrified! That he would be the only Warden left in Fereldan.

Even Leliana! He had heard her weeping in the night, mourning the loss of their Qunari companion. It was safe to say he was baffled, dreadfully so. The Qunari rarely said anything pleasant to him, or any of the companions.

Alistair had tried to learn the reason behide Hanabi's grief and found himself on the receiving end of a glare. A very cold glare. A very cold and scary glare. He had expected her to lunge at him, relived when she simply turned and returned to her tent. He had even spotted Leliana, a glare of her own directed his way before she too retired to her tent.

Alistair decided he didn't, and would never understand women.

Nevermind. He would solve this mysterious another time, he could feel the faint presence of Darkspawn, and it was clear Hanabi could to from the way she all but ran towards it, weapons at the ready.

"Hanabi! Wait!" Letting out an exasperated sigh, he unsheathed his weapons and chased after her. Leliana and that Assassin, Zevran, following, and soon overtaking him. _Blasted armour._

He was careful with his breathing; it wouldn't do to be winded before you've even started battling Darkspawn, that's for sure.

He did notice, however that they had frozen ahead, staring down at something.

"What? What is it?" He slowed. His weapons raised and reading himself as he approached the ridge, wondering as to what had struck them all silent. He was worried. He hadn't felt the taint, infact it had the tingly feeling had vanished during his run. Whatever had them froze, in… whatever they were experiencing, it had to be something horrid, terrifying! This wouldn't be good, he could tell.

"Vashedan!"

**A/N: **

Hello again! I hope if you've read it, you enjoyed it alittle atleast. ^^ I've been playing DA:O a lot lately, and using companions I pretty much ignored my last play through (I pretty much only used Leliana, Alistair and Wynne my first time through) and found that Sten is quickly becoming one of my favourites!

Another Angsty-ish one, but I'm currently in the Deep Roads, so!


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